


Radiance

by originally



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Kissing, Multifandom Yuri Fest, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originally/pseuds/originally
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa awakens from a nightmare.</p><p>Written for the prompt <i>kissing awake</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Radiance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [x_disturbed_x](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=x_disturbed_x).



> Archiving an old fic that was originally posted as part of the [Multifandom Yuri Fest](http://stseiya-fanfics.livejournal.com/356432.html) on LiveJournal.
> 
> Mostly show canon with a bit of book canon mixed in.

Lady Margaery's bedchamber was cool and quiet in the pre-dawn half-light when Sansa blinked awake. She was disoriented for half a heartbeat, her body tensing and her breath coming in the sharp gasp that had been familiar ever since that day on the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor. Sansa threw an anxious glance at Margaery, but she was still sleeping peacefully. With a shaft of pale light illuminating her features and her soft brown hair framing her face, she could have been an image of the Maiden from one of the illustrated books Septa Mordane had made Sansa read from as a child, or of beautiful Jonquil who bathed with her sisters in the song. 

Sansa clenched her fingers in the smooth fabric of the bedsheets and breathed deeply, trying to rid herself of the lingering sense of panic. The last thing she wanted was to wake Margaery and let her see how weak and foolish Sansa was. She had almost turned down Margaery's invitation to spend the night in her chambers entirely. There were a number of Tyrell cousins who took it in turns to share her bed, Margaery had told Sansa as they walked in the gardens, but it would make her exceedingly happy if Lady Sansa would agree to keep her company tonight. To be taken into Margaery's confidence like this, to be treated as a sister even though she was no longer to marry Ser Loras--it made Sansa's heart sing in an entirely different way than before. 

She studied Margaery's face in the soft light. In sleep, she seemed more innocent than the worldly older woman whose eyes twinkled as she imparted unto Sansa the truths of the world. Some of those truths, however... Sansa reflected on the words that Margaery had spoken to her, after she had given Sansa a beautiful rose. _Some women like pretty girls_. 

Afterwards, Sansa could not have said what possessed her. Her hand trembled as she lifted it to trace the lovely contours of Margaery's face, before she pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. Margaery's eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at Sansa with an expression of surprise that softened into something else, something Sansa couldn't place. For a long moment, they only gazed at one another. Then Sansa recoiled, horrified, and began to stammer out an apology. 

"My lady, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to--"

Margaery placed one elegant finger to Sansa's lips, and her protest died in her throat. Sansa could only sit frozen, quivering like a hare before a hound, as Margaery stroked her cheek, leaned in and kissed her in return. 

This kiss was neither chaste nor hesitant, but rather firm and purposeful. Margaery's lips were soft against hers but her tongue was hot and insistent, sending shivers of excitement through Sansa's body. Emboldened, she slid her fingers into Margaery's hair and tangled them there, eliciting a sharp gasp and a quiet, thrilling moan. Sansa sighed against Margaery's mouth and she pulled back, favouring Sansa with a radiant smile. 

"Come here," Margaery said, her voice affectionate as she gently tugged Sansa down to lie next to her again. They settled face to face with legs entwined, trading lazy kisses to lips and cheeks and jaws. Sansa could feel Margaery's breath warm against her skin as she ran her hands over the contours of Margaery's body, revelling in the plush curve of her hips, the firm planes of her stomach, the ridges of her spine. 

In the golden glow of the brightening morning sun, Sansa slipped back into sleep in Margaery's arms, and for the first time in a very long time, she did not dream. 


End file.
